


Hot for Teacher

by CaptainKenway



Category: The Voice (US) RPF, The Voice RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Hand Jobs, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Prompt Fill, Teacher-Student Relationship, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 19:27:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5387525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainKenway/pseuds/CaptainKenway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off the tumblr prompt: I had a one night stand the night before I started a college class and WHOOPS I ACCIDENTALLY BANGED THE PROFESSOR</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot for Teacher

**Author's Note:**

> So finals + holidays = little writing time for me. But I finished studying early today and decided to write a one-shot filled with Shevine goodness :) I didn't read/edit over this as much as I usually do, so if you spot any mistakes be sure to tell me!

Soft lips danced across his exposed chest, lingering over last night’s marks. Adam shifted, twisted sheets successfully trapping him under warm limbs. Tingles of arousal spread as his partner pinned Adam to the mattress. A tongue swiped over his left nipple, not quite distracting Adam from the hand that casually slid between their bare bodies. The large, lubed hand stroked his dick.

“ _Fuck_ —” Adam said, his groan quickly devoured.  He arched back, eyes flying open. Devilishly please blue eyes twinkled above him. Adam licked his lips. Damn, he was always a sucker for blue eyes.

“Hard already?” his partner teased.

“Don’t be too pleased,” Adam grunted. “Morning wood was a thing long before you creeped into my bed.”

His partner shifted his position, tightening his grip ever so slightly. Adam moaned, hands sliding up toned arms to dig into the taller man’s back.

“I don’t think creep is the right word.”

God, he wanted to wipe that smug smirk off his face. A smirk of his own appeared when he realized he had the power to do just that. His fingers tangled in curly hair. Adam forced the taller man to dip down, leveraging his weight so he swept up to meet him. Their mouths clashed together. Adam quickly maneuvered the taller man to the side—his bedmate's hand’s unfaltering pace deliciously _just right_ —scraping his teeth down his neck. One night stand definitely did not equate to the comfort level of intimately trading morning breath.

“That does go against your southern upbringing, I suppose.”

“I knew my southern charm would woo you,” the taller man grunted.

“I’m never one to— _God_!” A chuckled vibrated against his chest as rough lips sucked Adam’s erect nipple.

“My name works just as well,” his partner murmured

Adam moan of agreement sharply transformed into a whine as his partner’s hand slowed.

“You do know my name, don’t you?”

Adam swallowed as blue eyes bore into him. “I wasn’t _wasted_ last night. Of course, I know your name.”

“Then what is it?” he asked calmly, as if Adam wasn’t writhing underneath him. He huffed. Shit.

Last night’s events were a blur of laughter and booze. Adam accidentally spilt his drink on his bed partner’s shirt. Of course, the taller man merely chuckled and said some dickish thing about city manners. But his eyes—fucking blue eyes—were twinkling and his newly wet shirt clung to him nicely. Adam’s smartass retort, which was originally meant to be an apology, somehow led them to dicking around until Adam unsubtly mentioned his nearby apartment a few hours later.

The fucking guy introduced himself at the beginning of the night. But Adam had too many nicknames to use the taller man's name during their actual conversation.

“Get off your high horse,” Adam said. “You probably—”

“Adam,” his partner answered immediately.

“Motherfucker,” Adam muttered. “You only know because my friends kept yelling it.”

The taller man chuckled, his hand’s tight grip and fast pace resumed. His lips sloppily traced Adam’s shoulder tattoo. Adam tangled a hand into his partner’s hair, not arguing the abrupt change of pace. Pleasure was the best way to make Adam drop all logic. His bed partner’s constant ministrations and roaming tongue successfully distracted Adam from his other hand. Adam blinked as large fingers wrapped firmly around the base of his cock.

“Wha...”

“What’s my name?” his partner asked. Adam’s dick jumped. He panted slightly at the makeshift cock ring, moaning as his partner’s pace increased. His cock leaked precum. Jesus Christ.

His partner clamped down on Adam’s neck, making him arch into his infuriatingly pleasurable hands. God, why did he have to actually know how to _use_ his Bigfoot hands? His dick hardened painfully.

Fuck, he needed a release.

“Adam?” he said, his tongue soothing the sting.

Adam grunted, heart pounding. “ _Please_.”

“Just say my name and you can cum,” he murmured, mouth working up to Adam’s ear.

“Asshole,” he groaned, hips bucking forward in an attempt to accomplish  _something._ No luck. Fuck, he felt like his dick would explode from sheer pressure.

Jesus, Adam just needed to focus.

Name, name...Something southern probably. Like Kenny or Hunter. Billy?

His hand skated back until his finger circled around Adam’s entrance. Two fingers plunged into him. He moaned, heat coiling impossibly hotter in his groin. God, he couldn’t think. His fingers began pumping into Adam.

B-something? B-something felt right.

“Brad.”

“Strike one,” he murmured, teeth tugging on Adam’s earlobe.

 _Shit_. Bryce, Bob, Bilbo, Ben, Barry, Bryan, Blake—Blake? Blake. God, it better be Blake.

“You got it, rock star,” Blake said.

His mortification of rambling aloud was quickly forgotten as Blake removed his other hand. His dick pulsed. Adam threw his head back, a strangled yell ripping past his throat. “ _Blake._ ”

Blake captured his lips, pumping Adam as he came. Blake’s hand crept down to his own cock, making himself cum in a few quick jerks.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Blake said, easing against the headboard.

“Ass,” Adam said, nestling into the other man. “Fuck, how could you make me cum so hard from just a fucking handjob?”

“I got mad skills,” Blake said.

“Don’t talk like that,” Adam said. “You’re ruining your otherwise perfect A+ bar hookup score.”

“Seems premature to give me a grade after one encounter,” Blake said. “What if it’s a fluke?”

Adam smirked. How endearingly unsubtle. He should have gone southern years ago. “We might have to go out again. For science.”

“Good,” Blake said, pressing his cheek into Adam’s hair. Damn, Adam wasn’t much for cuddling almost complete strangers, but he could definitely get used to this. His eyes flickered up, the morning sun illuminating Blake’s softened expression.

Wait. Adam tensed. Blake’s rubbing hand paused on his forearm.

...Motherfucker.

“What time is it?”

Blake stiffened next to him

“8,” he said.

“Shit, I need to—” Adam said, cutting himself off as Blake also sprang out of bed. His tan legs shot through discarded jeans. “Oh? Do you have to go too? That makes the abrupt leaving less awkward.”

“We’re making plans later,” Blake said firmly, scribbling his number on a random piece of paper. He pulled Adam into a rough kiss. “But I can’t be late. Not today.”

Adam stared after the hastily clad man, noting a spare shirt and tangled, messy sheets left in his wake. The front door of his apartment slammed shut. Day one of the new semester and Adam already had to do laundry. He couldn’t bring himself to be too bothered, especially with Blake’s phone number in his hand.

Adam eventually forced himself to move. His own happiness would probably only infuriate his professor if he was late. Thank God he lived only a couple minutes from campus.

 

* * *

 

Blake entered his classroom with two minutes to spare. He had spent the previous three minutes in the bathroom attempting to make himself at least semi-presentable. The best he managed was changing into an emergency button down shirt he kept in his truck—due to Miranda’s promptings. Damn, he would have to apologize for all of his previous mocking now—and smoothing out his hair. He could only count his lucky stars that his most noticeable hickey was on his collarbone and away from students’ prying eyes.

He taught part time at both UCLA and the community college. He hoped his temporary teaching position would give him enough time to wow the History department chairs into offering him a permanent job. Being late was not a good start.

“Alright class, welcome to Intro to American History,” Blake said. "Let's just keep things simple the first few minutes while we wait for stragglers, yeah?”

A couple of his students smiled tiredly back at him. No one looked particularly interested. But it was an 8:20 class on a Monday so that was to be expected.

“Now, my name is Blake Shelton and this is my first year teaching at UCLA,” he said. “I graduated right around the corner in Oklahoma University, which probably answers y’all’s question about the accent but not why a little southern boy like me is in LA. Let’s just say that Oklahoma is lacking in things to do.”

That at least earned a few tired chuckles.

The quietly opening door made Blake smirk. He knew he didn’t prepare his jokes in vain. “And glad you could join us—” Blake cut himself off as he turned to the student. Good Lord, it was Adam. In his class. As his student. Heat rushed to his face.

Adam just stared at him, frozen by the door. “Um...Intro to American History?”

Holy shit. Why wasn’t he more careful? He even knew that 82 Slider was a popular college bar. And yet when he bumped into a younger man—he had previously guessed only a few years younger but Christ knows now—he didn’t think twice. What was wrong with him?

Blake cleared his throat. He had a class to teach. He needed to be a professional. Damn it. Everything had such potential...  “Yep, you’re in the right class, Mr. ...?”

“Adam Levine,” Adam said, the telltale signs of a smirk sharpening his features. Blake tensed. “Sorry I was late. I had a pest control issue this morning.”

He gave Adam a very unimpressed look. Adam smiled cheekily back. “Sit down, Mr. Levine.”

“Yes, sir,” Adam said as he brushed by him. As if there wasn’t enough room for Adam to easily skirt around him.

Blake cleared his throat again. “Let’s see who’s here.”

Class was stilted and awkward. But that might just be Blake projecting. Every time he was in the middle of lecture, he would lock eyes with Adam and fumble over words. His initial plan to ignore Adam entirely flew out the window when he plopped himself into the only free chair in the front row.

At least it was the first day so no department chairs were sitting in and observing. His stuttering mess of a lecture endeared him to no one. He tensed as the clock grew closer to 9:30.

“Alright, enough yapping for one day,” Blake said. “See y’all on Wednesday.”

Students threw their supplies into their backpacks and scampered out of the door without a backwards glance. They filed out in 30 seconds flat. Nothing like the lethargic students who first graced his classroom. Blake shut the door behind the last fleeing student, turning slowly to the remaining person in the room.

“So does this mean I get an A?” Adam asked, eyes dancing from where he sprawled in his desk.

“What? No,” Blake said.

“So you’re deliberately not going to give me an A because we slept together?” Adam reiterated. “That’s not fair. What if I earn an A?”

“Don’t let your mouth overload your tail,” Blake sputtered.

Adam’s eyes twinkled. “Did you know that you get increasingly southern the more flustered you get? It’s adorable.”

Blake flushed, busying himself by tidying his papers. But he only brought in two stacks of paper so tidying didn’t take nearly as long as he wanted. “I didn’t know you were a college student.”

“No shit,” Adam said. “I didn’t know you were a professor. You certainly opened me up to a kink I never knew I had.”

“You can’t say things like that here,” Blake hissed, eyes darting around the deserted classroom. Students milled in the hallway outside the closed door, but none bothered to glance through the window. “I’m your educator.”

“Well, I think we previously agreed we had to continue hooking up for science,” Adam said. “Science is educational.”

“Adam...”

“Can I change your ringtone to Hot for Teacher?” Adam asked, standing up to lean against the desk. Warmth radiated off the smaller man. “Actually, too late. That’s officially your ringtone.”

“Adam, this is serious.”

Adam’s grin faded. “What’s the big deal? We fucked last night. We didn’t incite a riot.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Blake said. “This is inappropriate.”

“Inappropriate?” Adam repeated. “But...What happened to this morning?”

“Adam, don’t do this,” Blake pleaded. “I can’t risk my job here. I just started. I’m hoping to impress the staff enough that they’ll want to keep me after Dr. Hughes returns from pregnancy leave. Having...relations with a student is not going to accomplish that.”

“You didn’t know I was your student,” Adam protested.

“My boss won’t care,” Blake said. Damn it, he needed to remain firm. He _needed_ this job. “A student-teacher relationship goes against essentially every policy.”

“But...I really want to get to know you,” Adam said. Blake had no idea if Adam was aware of how vulnerable he looked. “We hit it off last night. News flash: I generally don’t spend an entire evening with a complete stranger unless I’m wasted or in a study group. Blake, we have something. Why don’t you want to pursue it?”

Blake forced his gaze away from his pleading hazel eyes. Last night had been refreshingly... _easy_. He floundered in LA ever since he moved up here a month ago after he was offered the UCLA temp position, leaving behind all of his friends and family in Oklahoma. He was still adapting to the city scene. Adam was the first person to make Blake feel less like an outsider. And Adam actually _wanted_ him _._ Blake knew his humor made him more appealing, but people like Adam should be out of his league.

But Adam was his student. Blake swallowed back the bitter taste of regret. One night of fun was not worth losing his job. Despite how much he wanted to—and Lord how he wanted to—give it a shot. A million shots.

But he hardly knew Adam.

“You didn’t even know my name this morning,” Blake said, sounding less accusatory than he meant to.

“You drilled it into me,” he said.

Blake studied the smudged tile floors, refusing to let his mind wander to just a couple hours earlier. Everything was so much more simple then.

“Just...just tell me one thing,” Adam said. “If you weren’t my teacher and I wasn’t your student, would you want to continue where we left off?”

“Fucking in bed?” Blake asked lightly.

“If you want,” Adam said. “I meant fucking with feelings. It’s called a relationship, I hear.”

Blake hesitated, not even looking at the smaller man. Of course, one of the first things he learned about Adam, besides the fact he was a smartass, was that he’s insanely stubborn. So he honestly should have anticipated the hand reaching up to tilt Blake’s head down. But he didn’t.

He jerked at Adam’s touch, startled enough to actually look his direction. “You can’t touch me like that, Adam.”

“Blake,” Adam said softly. “Please just answer me. I want to get to know you. I want to give us a shot. Just...tell me if you feel the same.”

Tell the truth or lie? What would make the semester less awkward?

Who was he kidding? Their student-teacher relationship was already fucked in more ways than one.

“I would,” Blake said slowly. “In a heartbeat.”

Adam beamed.

“But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m your teacher and—”

“Oh but it does,” Adam interrupted.

His breath caught. “What?”

“Well, Blakey-boo, when a student and his professor—”

God, knows where this is going. He needed Adam to focus. “I thought we agreed on no sappy pet names,” he interrupted.

“That’s just because your ego is masculine enough to only accept nicknames like Big Country or Bigfoot,” Adam disputed. “Plus we never had that agreement. You just fucked up your shot when I called you 'babe' during pool, which was my intention.”

“You’re so unnecessarily competitive.”

“I fight for what I want,” Adam said. “And finding someone I genuinely want to spend time with is worth more than this class.”

Blake blinked. “What?”

“I’ll drop this course,” Adam said, shrugging. “Then you won’t be my teacher anymore and we can date.”

“Adam, you can’t just drop a course,” Blake said. Unexpected elation and obligation to education warred inside him. “What about your degree? You’re graduating this year.”

Adam waved a hand. “Eh, this is just a bullshit elective course. I can always sign up for a different one this semester. To be honest, I don’t give a shit about history. Um...no offense.”

“How is that not offensive?” Blake asked, mind whirling. He had already resigned himself on giving up on Adam. But now... A slow grin crept on his face.

Adam shushed him. “Don’t get too caught up on specifics.”

“My field is history,” Blake reminded. “Specifics is kind of my thing."

“How about you teach me history later?” Adam waggled his eyebrows.

Blake chuckled. “I would like that a lot.”

His face brightened. “So...it’s a date?”

“It’s definitely a date.”

This time when Adam’s hand gripped his face, not a single word of protest was uttered.


End file.
